


Better is the Enemy of Good Enough

by ivanolix



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Banter, Canon - TV, Canon Compliant, Canon Het Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Morning After, Pre-Relationship, Season/Series 02, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-25
Updated: 2010-05-25
Packaged: 2017-10-20 21:58:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivanolix/pseuds/ivanolix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their first morning-after isn't bad, considering they're on an irradiated planet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better is the Enemy of Good Enough

Thanks to his too-large arm, Kara doesn’t wake with the crick in her neck that she might have predicted from the night before. Apparently pillows are superfluous in all ways now, with Sam around. She’s snug against him, arms molded to her chest to keep them from getting squashed and tingly from his log-like sleep rolling.

It’s a bit strange for a waking experience, but not something she regrets. Nothing on this planet is going to be about regrets, not now that she’s left the shamble of an apartment that was never a home behind. Resistance—that’s more of what she wants. And to Hades with abstractions, resistance leaders aren’t undesirable either, not by a long shot.

Her limbs are stiff with sleep now, and she rolls herself to the side of the cot, slapping her bare feet down on the possibly cold floor, Sam still lying there looking disheveled and chiseled. A yawn attacks her stiff jaw, and with her eyes squeezed shut she tenses her muscles, pulling each arm behind her head to flex it and feel the dull burning stretch of dissipating night-tightness. It sends a rush of wakefulness to her, and she hums more than grunts because there’s no hangover.

A touch to her breast makes her jump, and she glances down to see Sam looking up at her, clearly awake, his hand within slapping distance. “Hey!”

“You had your arms up, I couldn’t help it,” he mumbles teasingly, rolled on his side, deliberately keeping his blue eyes gazing only at hers. But he gives her breast another soft squeeze.

Kara makes a mumbling noise at the back of her throat and elbows his hand away, but with a spark in her eyes. “Nobody gets to do that. Not this early.”

“Hmm.” Sam sits up, digging the heel of his hand into his eyes while Kara reaches for the abandoned bra that lies limp at the corner of the bed. “Anyone ever get the chance to try it before?”

It’s the sort of question she’d been about to answer without him asking. The lack of curiosity in his tone means it’s not a question, though, and that makes her glance back with a pause, eyes narrowing. He raises an eyebrow, a half smile reassuring her that he’s not digging for more, just making sure they’ve got clarity in the situation. “Nope,” she says.

“Well, it’d be a lie if I said it was a habit,” Sam says, stretching out his arms. Kara’s easily distracted in the morning by arms, muscles, especially ones well lit by the morning, but he doesn’t know that and she manages to blink and shake the thought free before he turns to her. “Don’t normally stay to sleep after a frak.”

“Could have fooled me, Mr. Instant Drop-Off.”

He doesn’t exactly laugh, but he pulls at her elbow until she falls off balance, half leaning over him, and there’s a dark light in his eyes. “Yeah?”

Her bra is back on, and Kara almost wishes it wasn’t, what with his hands around her back and his fingers pressing against muscles now loose, the electricity buzzing beneath her skin as it dances in his eyes. “Must be this frakking planet doing stuff to our heads,” she says with a slight tip of her head.

His hands tighten, gripping her. “That’s no joke,” he breathes out.

It isn’t, and since banter isn’t proving to be their strong suit at this time, she stops both their words with a kiss. The shiver of relaxation tickles down her spine, and she can feel the slow burn of his skin beneath her. His lips travel up her face to her forehead, then to her hair, and she lets her face fall to his neck to the side she hadn’t marked the night before. His arms wrap around her, comfortably squashing her to his chest with one as the other trails down to her bare ass, and she makes a small noise as she buries her face in his neck.

Then, with a grimace, she pulls back. “Gods, you need a shower,” she says with dry amusement.

“And you need a breath mint,” he retorts, digging his fingers into her side.

She jerks at the ticklish motion and smacks his shoulder. “So that’s why there’s no point sleeping together after sex. Nice to know the answer.”

He rolls them over, and she lets herself flop to the bed with a wicked grin. “Yeah,” he says, grabbing for his shirt. “There’s only two things that would make me go through that for a morning quickie, and neither of them involve the bruise you so kindly placed on my ass on the pyramid court yesterday.”

 “Is one of them _not_ you being a manwhore I hire?” Kara asks lazily, sitting and slipping on her pants. 

“Surprisingly, yeah.”

She turns to grin at him again, but he sits up to throw the previously abandoned pillow at her head, and she snorts mockingly and continues getting dressed with a half-smile. For a first frak, he was probably one of the better ones she’d had; her instinct hadn’t been wrong on the pyramid court, seemingly.

If she’d known the answers to his unspoken thoughts, though, she might have frowned instead have smiled. Because one of the things that would keep him around after a frak is an overwhelming intoxication with her, that she’ll see in his eyes beneath her on this very bed in just a few days time. And the other is something that would shake her foundation loose if he ever managed to put it into words—she only ever manages to deal with it in action, because ‘love’ never does become a word that she can explain.


End file.
